never bet against your lover (or do)
by burnedinashes
Summary: Quinn is staring at her computer screen and Rachel's face is staring right back. On an online-dating site. As a suggested match. Well, damn. FW:Day5:Online Dating.


**Can't sleep, won't sleep, and I just might be delirious. **

**It's short. **

**And I don't actually remember writing it.**

* * *

Creating an online dating profile was embarrassing.

Creating an online dating profile at twenty-four was possibly a premature step in the absurdity that was her life.

Creating an online dating profile at twenty-four alongside her best friend was comforting, if a tad unconventional.

But creating an online dating profile at twenty-four alongside her best friend and staring at the screen as it offered said best friend as a potential match? That was—it was…

It was a lot of things.

It was a disconcerting, catastrophic, overwhelmingly alarming _mess._

It was the onset of subsequent perspiration, an irregular heartbeat, the sudden raise in body temperature, and a distinct lack of blood flow to her brain. At least, the latter she assumed was at cause for the black spots in her vision and the way her head weighed less on her neck than it had just before she'd clicked the button that led her to the page that started it all.

It was the way Rachel stared at her, the way Quinn just _knew_ that her own picture had popped up on the brunette's page as well. The way a single brown eyebrow raised and made Quinn curse herself for _ever_ thinking teaching Rachel how to do that would be a fun idea.

It was the small, tiny, if-she-hadn't-been-looking-she-would-have-missed-it-completely twitch at the corner of the other woman's full lips.

It was the silence.

And then...it was pink cover over Rachel's laptop lowering as she closed the device, placed her forearms on the marble countertop, and laced her hands together as she leaned forward.

"I win," she said, her acting skills at large with the neutrality she managed.

And then Quinn knew then what it really was.

Defeat.

"So you do," she conceded, closing her own laptop and leaning forward in her own chair. "And what do you win, exactly?"

There was something in Rachel's eyes then, a flash of an emotion Quinn had come to associate with the brunette getting what she wanted, _however_ she wanted it.

"You," Rachel answered simply, and Quinn felt the gentle warmth of the statement tumble over her chest and into her stomach where it continued to spread to the rest of her body.

"You already have me."

Whether it be as a friend, a best friend, a confidant, a lover, a girlfriend, or wife, Rachel had Quinn in any and every way.

"Ah, ah." There was a glimmer in her eyes, that emotion again. Dominance, appeal, _provocation. _"No interrupting."

Rachel stood, finally, and walked around the island, fingertips trailing over the dark marble. Quinn just watched her, hazel eyes stuck on the skilled fingers she knew could be anything but gentle at times. So caught in the mental images that followed the thought, she almost jumped when her lap was promptly filled by the nimble owner of those hands.

"I win you," Rachel reiterated as she straddled Quinn fully in her chair. Tan arms wrapped around her shoulders and those brown eyes Quinn had fallen in love with years ago lost their color to the blackness of her wife's dilated pupils. The blonde's throat went dry as Rachel leaned in close, her lips bypassing Quinn's own in favor of reaching her ears. "In our bed, tied up, and at my mercy until _I_ say you've had enough."

A groan ripped through her throat and Quinn snaked her hands around the brunette's hips, bringing her heat even closer. She ran her nose along a tan neck and breathed in the soft scent of milk and honey body wash mixed with the unmistakable smell of skin that was just _Rachel_. The fact that the woman on top of her thought her words were a _punishment_ for the blonde…it drove her crazy in all the right ways.

Except, Rachel made it very clear that it wasn't the promise of her words that was the punishment when she wrapped her hands around pale wrists and pulled them away from her body.

"No touching."

Much to Quinn's dismay, Rachel pulled away from her and hummed, shifting her legs around. She gave the blonde a quick peck on the lips before hopping off of her lap completely and flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Rach," Quinn whined, standing and reaching for the other woman who remained just out of her reach. "Come baaack."

But Rachel just shook her head and giggled, all the while walking around the island to retrieve her laptop.

"You knew the conditions, Quinn," she said, opening it back up to the screen where her face looked back at her. "You bet we wouldn't match and I bet we would."

"But, Rach—" Quinn tried, very against the idea of not being able to touch Rachel for however long her wife decided.

"The only butt I'll except is yours heading to the bedroom." Rachel raised her hand palm down and spun her pointer finger in a circle several times, giving Quinn the hint. The blonde didn't like it but she turned around anyway and did as she was told.

Rachel _had_ won, after all, and Quinn couldn't find it in herself to be upset over her own loss. Especially because, as Rachel said, she knew the conditions. And, _god, _was she anticipating on reaping the benefits.

They'd have to delete their accounts in the morning if they didn't want anyone to find out, she reminded herself as she allowed her wife to push her down against their mattress. No part of her wanted to explain to their friends that they'd created online dating profiles just to see if they'd match.

Because Rachel had said they would, and Quinn just couldn't let her win.

That would be embarrassing.

* * *

**It was supposed to go in a completely different direction, but then I lost my mind. Do tell me if anyone finds it?**


End file.
